


Phantom Limb

by Anonymous



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-27
Updated: 2017-09-29
Packaged: 2018-11-19 14:24:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11315250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Akira doesn't get what the big deal is.





	1. Rocky Start

**Author's Note:**

> I like writing dumb shit. Just a series of snapshots with Akira's great hands. Kitashu is incoming but I'll tag it when it comes.

The precedent regarding Akira’s arms is set right at the start.

Ryuji and Akira stand winded in the alley in front of Shujin Academy. The rain from the morning hasn’t let up but hey, they’re alive. 

After Ryuji finishes yelling “what the hell” in a few different tones and cadences he turns to Akira. 

“Anyways it’s all thanks to you we made it back.” 

Ryuji raises an open hand with a wide grin on his face.

Akira picks himself off the ground and barely gets his heavily bandaged hand up before Ryuji is slamming his palm home. 

The next seconds are a whirlwind of Ryuji’s shrill screaming and black curling through Akira’s vision. On impact Akira’s hand bends clean back, way further than ninety degrees, and then explodes in a mess of bandages and smoke. 

Ryuji’s eyes are at their widest of the day as he watches a pile of bandages slipping to the ground. The pile on the ground just keeps growing. He thought it had just been Akira’s hand, but then his sleeve is bending and the bandages don’t stop until Akira’s forearm. All the while thick but thinning black smoke furls out through the gaps.

He’s all screamed out for the day but Ryuji still manages a raspy final “what the fuck” before sagging against the brick wall of the alley. His eyes dart to Akira’s other hand, clutching the strap of his bag. Bandaged.

Akira puts his arm down and frowns at the rising cloud. “Ugh I knew I didn’t tie it tight enough. I was in a rush this morning.”

Ryuji, too exhausted for anything else, lets sleeping fishes lie for the moment. Come nightfall however, he’s bombing Akira’s phone. 

The questions start with a brief but intense fear that somehow Akira’s hand had been burnt to a crisp and by slapping it Ryuji had made it disintegrate.

“No.” Akira messages back.

Ryuji can’t really help himself after that. Was it some skin condition? Bone condition? Birth defect? Was he a dead? A ghost?

Akira is a tough nut to crack. It takes quite some time for Ryuji to notice the answers transitioning from “What do you mean?” or “I don’t understand,” to affirming everything.

“You’re fucking with me aren’t you.”

“You’re being weird about my hands.”

“But they’re weird!” Ryuji shouts and types before remembering his mom is preparing for bed.

“Sorry ma!” He hollers before turning his attention back to his thumb floating above the send key. He reads over the message again. “They’re not-”

He stops mid-sentence. He just had a thought. 

Ryuji clears the box and revises his message.

“Hey man I’m sorry about all that. Let’s meet up tomorrow. Don’t flake on me okay?”


	2. Sullen Observer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some answers come in light of King Kamoshida's dethroning except the answers are actually more questions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So far things are in chronological order but it won't always be like that. (Also if there's any typos or anything please let me know! I hate those!!)

Once the fervour around Kamoshida’s arrest dies down, Shujin Academy quickly moves to recapture a stable learning environment. Physicals happen in mid-May.

There’s a lengthy queue of boys in shorts trailing out the nurse’s office. Akira and Ryuji find themselves nearing the front. The closer they get, the readier to combust Ryuji feels.

Every time he and Akira talk he must do his darndest to keep his eyes away from the bandages trailing up Akira’s arms, and legs, as he’s discovered today.

Whenever Akira isn’t looking Ryuji’s eyes dart down to his legs. The bandages there run up to the tops of his knees. At that point Akira’s legs are basically more clouds than actual leg, and Ryuji is dying to talk about it.

The only reason he hasn’t is Akira must get heaps of unwarranted prodding about his hands every day. Not that Ryuji’s seen it happen but he must do, and his friend doesn’t need that.

“Kurusu Akira!” The nurse’s assistant calls out.

Ryuji feels bad, but he is also on the edge of his metaphorical seat in anticipation of Akira’s results.

There’s no clock in sight. Ryuji had left his phone in his uniform trousers like a fool so here he is waiting eons for Akira to come out. Straining his ears yields nothing and it drives him crazy. Surely Akira’s exam must be going on way longer than usual. Weigh-ins and measurements don’t take that long do they?

When Akira emerges there’s no time to grill him before Ryuji is called in for his own exam. By the time he is let out of the nurse’s office Akira is nowhere to be found.

*

“They said I’m really underweight.”

“After that buffet we went to!?” Ann shouts. “Here I thought _I_ had good metabolism. Maybe you should consider being a model too Akira.”

Akira quickly poses, throwing out his ass and chest. In their winter uniform the pose has Ann laughing until she cries. 

In the meanwhile, Ryuji stares toward them but not quite at them, nigh wall-eyed, off into the distance. Obviously, Akira is underweight given the state of his curious limbs. It makes a lot of sense in retrospect, the infuriating ease with which Akira bounded across chandeliers or hoisted himself onto shelves in Kamoshida’s castle. No wonder he had him and Ann eating the dust.

Also in retrospect the title of “Phantom Thieves” had come to Ryuji hauntingly fast. He’ll never forget the image of Akira’s arm dissolving into black smoke. 

“Ryuji?”

Akira and Ann stare at him. 

“Is everything okay? You’ve been really quiet.”

The utter cluelessness on Akira’s face and in his voice drives Ryuji up the wall and he nearly does it. Nearly blurts out a bunch of questions that will irritate Akira, then he remembers he’s already had to send an apology message to Ann today. He should probably cool it on yelling whatever is on his mind for now.

He drops his head to the diner table. “Man eff these winter uniforms! The vending machines at school are always out of stock and we have to wait another month for summer uniforms? Eff that!”

It happens in a blink but Ryuji catches it, the slightest quirk at the corner of Akira’s lips and he _sees_ him biting his cheek.

“Seriously dude!? Even the placenta drink? Bro how much placenta have you had??”

“I need a lot of SP.” Akira whines, very offended.

Just like that Ryuji goes from chasing one moment to chasing the next.


	3. Grim Design

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It doesn't really bother Yusuke.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> very light vanilla kitashu. slightly fatter chapter bc i'm going on a trip soon ; n ;

Yusuke, Ryuji, and Akira stand outside the bath house, coins in fists. Akira walks in but before Yusuke can do the same Ryuji yanks him back.

“Uh… I need to tell you something about Akira.”

Yusuke quirks an eyebrow. “Can this not wait? Perhaps when we are in the bath.”

Ryuji groans something that sounds suspiciously like “you seriously need to get a clue.”

Still deep in the clutches of a severe food coma and sweaty, Yusuke needs this bath. The sooner the better. “I’m going to tell Akira.”

“Snitch,” Ryuji mutters. Stopping mid-eyeroll when Yusuke moves to head in. “Look just… Don’t freak out.”

Yusuke nods and keeps going. This bath will be very interesting indeed.

*

Yusuke immediately understands what Ryuji was on about.

Akira sits in the tub with his head tilted back on tile and the most serene expression Yusuke has seen. Not a wrinkle in his brow, not a twist in his lip, just a soft hint of a gentle smile and long lashes decorating lax cheeks. The cackling Joker grin is something to behold, but this is on a whole new level. Those gentle smiles that light up the world are sprinkled like saffron. It leaves Yusuke wanting more but the scarcity is also part of the magic.

Ryuji told him not to ‘freak out’ and Yusuke grudgingly acknowledges his enthusiasm can be suffocating at times. So he sits back, drinking it all in.

They have a good thing going with the silence, but then of course Ryuji has to ruin it.

“Hey Akira, what do you think of Ann?”

Slowly, as if it takes a herculean effort, Akira rolls his head to face Ryuji. Yusuke sees that his eyes are open, but just the barest of slits. He wouldn’t have noticed if he didn’t spend the past few minutes staring at him.

Akira doesn’t say anything so Ryuji goes on. “As a girl, y’know?”

Out of nowhere everything around Yusuke sharpens to the point it hurts. The hot water prickles his skin, the squeak squeak of the old man turning the hot water knob grates on his ears, and the aura of black around Akira becomes that much darker. It makes Akira’s skin and the tile bright enough to sting Yusuke’s eyes. He wants to hear this, he also doesn’t.

“She’s great.” Akira rasps, voice low and coarse from disuse. He clears his throat and his voice gains strength. “She’s strong, kind, and I’m grateful to have her as a friend.”

Yusuke can’t stop himself from smiling at the fury coming off of Ryuji. 

“You never say anything good! You dodge all my questions on girls! You dodge all my questions about your-”

_squeeaaak_

Ryuji yowls. “Oi gramps how hot do you need it!?” 

By now Yusuke and Akira aren’t even trying to be discreet about their giggling. Ryuji’s head snaps towards them and he glares. “Whatever I’m getting out.”

Akira goes back to leaning against the tile, the aura around him diffuses until it’s indistinguishable from the copious steam around them. It isn’t the same serene expression as before but Yusuke is enraptured all the same. 

Eventually Yusuke registers that the white at the edges of his sight isn’t steam, but him ready to faint if he doesn’t escape the boiling pot soon. He excuses himself. Akira follows soon after, a blur of white and black.

Later he and Ryuji wait outside over cold yoghurt drinks. 

Ryuji groans. “That guy always takes such a long time to get changed. Does he not care if one of us catches a cold?”

Yusuke takes a long sip from his drink. He feels something suspicious radiating around Ryuji, however the drink is much more interesting.

“So what do you think? You did see it right?” Ryuji asks, nudging him with his elbow.

“I hope our leader is dedicating enough time to his health.” Yusuke says between sips. “He has a lot to juggle in those capable hands after all.”

Ryuji’s eyes widen and his jaw drops. Right as he picks his jaw up, Akira comes out the door.

“Sorry for the wait. I’m really dizzy, that bath was a bit much.”

Ryuji looks ready to fight. Yusuke doesn’t bother to hold back a smirk.

They wish Ryuji a safe trip home and return to the attic of Leblanc. Akira and Morgana collapse on the bed immediately. Yusuke is just about to do the same on the sofa when his eyes catch on the bandages. 

He walks over and stands next to the bed. Akira’s eyes crack open as he approaches.

“Is it uncomfortable to wear those to sleep?” Yusuke gestures to Akira’s arm with a wide wave. “I’m worried it will cut off your circulation.”

“Yeah, but I’m too tired to deal with it now.” Akira says with a yawn. 

Yusuke sits on the edge of the bed, hand hovering above Akira’s arm. “May I?”

Akira nods. 

He closes his hand around the middle of Akira’s forearm where the bandages start and drags it down to find somewhere he can exploit, perhaps a loose end or a knot. There’s just a bit of give under his fingers, and in some parts his grip creates gap in the wrapping that black wisps through. 

It’d be much easier if he could cut it all off, or rip it. The bandage feels flimsy enough to do so. However, Yusuke wants this to last. 

He finds what he’s looking for in the form of a small bow on Akira’s palm. Tugging a bit on the wings reveals that it’s not so much a bow as a double knot. 

Yusuke has his work cut out for him.

He barely has any nails, what little he has are still soft from the bath. With Akira’s hand palm-up on his thigh Yusuke fiddles and fiddles with the knot until somehow, he makes it give. 

Knot undone, the black pouring out of bandages grows exponentially. Yusuke tries to keep the bandages neat, winding them around one hand while the other grips the part where flesh turns into black.

Akira is still warm from the bath. His skin feels warm and a bit damp, while the black feels like something Yusuke has a hard time putting into words. He imagines touching a cloud warmed by the sunlight, before cold science had ruined it all.

“You can just drop the bandages onto the floor.”

Yusuke does so. He sees Akira trying to twist his torso without disturbing Morgana on his lower half. Instead Yusuke turns himself around, one knee on the bed with the other leg hanging off. 

Akira speaks before Yusuke can grab his other arm.

“You don’t have to bother with the knot by the way. I only slid them back on in the bath house.” He places his hand in Yusuke’s. “If you pinch the fingertips you can pull it right off.”

“Oh, sorry about that.” Yusuke looks down.

Akira hums, it sounds like he’s laughing at him. “It’s okay, it feels nice.”

That statement makes Yusuke warm inside. He pulls the wrapping off Akira’s other hand and wants so badly to touch. On another day he might have, but tonight he’s dead tired after a large meal and a hot bath.

There’s a touch on his wrist, the sunny clouds feeling. Yusuke looks down to find Akira holding his hand and that soft smile from before, albeit this one feels sleepier.

“Thank you, Yusuke.” Akira says, drawing out Yusuke’s name.

It seems terribly amiss because Yusuke should be the one thanking him. For fielding their questions, shielding his name, giving him shelter.

Saving his life.

‘Thank you for everything’ seems too reductive, so he opts for something else.

“Good night, Akira.”


	4. Un serpent boa qui digérait un éléphant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maybe Sojiro shouldn't have given Akira the keys.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No yusuke this chap sorry everyone ; m ;   
> i'll try v hard to make some next time

Leaping along the ramparts of Kamoshida’s castle gives Akira a positive healthy thrill. Happiness and excitement aren’t foreign but he can’t remember the last time he felt so giddy. All in the name of justice to boot.

His actions in this world are and aren’t his own. He doesn’t have any basing in parkour or knife wielding but here he is. Faintly he hears Ann and Ryuji yelling at him to slow down, something about falling off and hurting himself. Akira’s too happy to care.

So he goes. Charging the ramparts. Ducking and weaving around shadows and the uneven flooring of the higher tower. Running running running up stairs that can hardly keep up with his breezy steps. 

At the top of another spiral stairwell is a cavernous hallway with a branch marked by a statue of Kamoshida. The branch is bright and looks different to everything else they’ve encountered in the castle so far. By now Akira’s worked up a good momentum. Palaces are easy, certain shadows won’t even mess with them. There’s nothing Akira and his team mates can’t do. 

“Akira _wait_!” 

Their attempts to reign him in make him want to rebel harder.

He couldn’t hold in the brash grin breaking out on his face if he tried. In a split second he flashes them wide smile, tip of his tongue flicking out the corner of his lips.

Then he hurls himself towards hanging metal platforms. Akira doesn’t have a clear memory of what happens next.

Most overwhelming is his heart jolting, seizing in his chest hard enough that it aches until he goes to bed that night. There’s screaming from somewhere, him or his team mates. Maybe both. In slow motion a wild death pendulum that had been in _plain sight_ swings towards Akira square in the path. All he can do is gawk at it. 

The next moment, he’s yanked back hard enough that it feels like his innards are playing catch up. Akira isn’t fast enough to avoid the death pendulum catching him in the wrist. 

It all happens so fast.

He feels his wrist bending yes, but beyond that it’s unclear. Pain? Not really. Shock? The impact makes more of an impression on him than anything else.

His red glove flutters to the ground, still in one piece interesting enough. Those blades must need sharpening.

Then comes a familiar black mist.

Ryuji, Ann, and Morgana stare at him, eyes wide. 

“Mona!” Ann stammers out at last.

Morgana shakes his head. “I don’t have enough to cast, and all we have are these peach seeds.” 

“I’m fine.” Akira mumbles. His knees are wobbly, a natural reaction given what happened.

“Oh man I think he’s going into shock!”

Ann and Ryuji clap their hands to their cheeks, Akira groans. This situation is spiralling wildly out of hand. Adding to the madness Akira hears footsteps coming from the staircase. They’re not in a safe room, it’s not good to be this noisy.

“Wait Carmen just learned dia!”

“Guys,” Akira butts in, waiving his okay arm. “We need to get out. Something’s coming.” 

Akira says this but execution is a different matter. The path with the huge blade is out, a tall stone wall obscures another, and something’s coming from the stairs.

It’s too late. They watch in horror as a knight arrives at the top of the stairs, about to spot them any moment now.

At the same Akira feels a twinge in his untouched arm. Without realising it he’s wrestling it free of bandage and the other glove falls to the ground. 

“Intruders!”

They’ve been spotted. Akira tries to move himself, he really does. However in his state he doesn’t have it in him to charge at a shadow top speed, leap onto their shoulders and tear their mask off.

Head hanging down Akira gets down on one knee. He’s fine he just needs a moment. Unconsciously his hands drift out. Black furls out from him, rises and grows in front of his eyes. 

He reaches out towards the shadow. The black mass is large enough to swallow it up and somehow Akira holds it in place

There’s a lot of screaming, from his friends, from under his hands. It’s certainly not doing anything for his headache, Akira feels like his head is going to explode.

He can’t focus like this, can’t reel his hand in to rip off his mask. 

Just one moment, he needs a break. 

Akira’s eyes squeeze shut and his hands clench into fists. 

A mask clatters on the stone.

Immediately some of the commotion dies down and his headache disappears instantly. The ache in his wrist is gone. Slowly, he opens his eyes. 

The first thing he sees is the black mass, it looks darker than before. Next are his team mates huddling around him.

“Panther can you heal him?” Morgana’s voice is level. In contrast his tail jitters.

“I’m good.” Akira rasps. With each breath he draws the huge black blob rushes back to him. Rather than keeping itself to a manageable state it pools around the whole team.

“Hey.” Ryuji moves closer then squats next to him. “What happened just now? Was that Arsene?”

“I don’t know.”

With that Akira passes the hell out.

***

When he comes to it’s dark out. He’s staring around his attic room and…

What happened to his friends?

As if on cue Morgana yawns and his phone buzzes.

**Ann:** How is everyone feeling?

Akira sighs. Thank god. He still has the Goho-Ms Morgana gave him a few days ago. They probably just dug those out and poofed everyone back. 

**Akira:** Tired. Morgana’s still asleep.  
 **Ryuji:** Quick! Let’s go to Shinjuku!

That gets a laugh out of him. Maybe another day.

**Akira:** How did I get home?  
 **Ryuji:** You don’t remember?  
 **Ann:** You were pretty out of it. Mona tried to tell us where you live.  
…  
…  
…  
 **Ann:** I think his view from the bag might be bad.  
 **Ryuji:** It all went to hell when we got to Shibuya. You kept trying to go to Central Street.  
 **Ryuji:** But you were all quiet and shit. Like a zombie.  
 **Ann:** We took you back to Yongen.

This is a lot to take in. Knowing his body was acting without his mind for the second time today also doesn’t feel great. This time it can’t be chalked up to metaverse weirdness either.

**Akira:** Thank you. Sorry for the trouble.  
 **Ann:** It’s fine! Boss gave us coffee ☆彡  
 **Ryuji:** You should prolly call him.  
 **Akira:** I will. 

They bid each other good night.

Akira flops back on the bed, jostling the mattress enough that Morgana growls from where he’s curled up. Try as he might he can’t come up with any good reason for what happened in the metaverse or Shibuya station.

He could ask Takemi about it. During the day he has a problem where he walks around without remembering what happened or what he did.

That’s just sleepwalking.

Akira groans. Takemi would probably draw the same conclusion. On the other hand, he’s already seeing her for “exam fatigue” and maybe she’ll give him more meds. Silver linings. Zing!

There’s no point in thinking about it anymore for the time being. Soon enough he succumbs to palace hangover.

***

“Good evening.”

“Evenin’” Akira grunts. The transition from sleep to the jail cell isn’t too hard on him. None of the grogginess of waking up rough follows him into the cell. However time in the cell does pass as it does in the normal realm. Akira has never treasured his beauty rest more.

“Made it back all in one piece this time. Good.” 

“Yes…?” His intonation at the end only rises a touch. Something about the old man’s tone rubs him the wrong way.

“You may not be mouthing off like before but I don’t like that look in your eye. Inmate!” Caroline punctuates the statement with a slam to the bars. Akira’s tired enough that neither the slam or the sizzle that comes afterwards phases him.

“You don’t know what our master’s done for you. You owe him your-“

“Caroline, enough.” The warden waves a hand before it returns under his chin.

“Anyway, do take care of yourself won’t you? It’d be a shame if your rehabilitation were to end prematurely.”

_Fuck rehabilitation._ Akira thinks as he spirals out of the jail cell.


	5. Happy Accidents

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yusuke's horizons are being expanded and he is loving it

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1040 words all shukita enjoy but no new canon on akira's arms. this is the law of equivalent exchange.

Trips to the Ikebukuro Planetarium are good.

Air con in the building is very functional, making it a welcome respite from the summer heat. Plenty of people frequent the place, giving Yusuke a generous pool to observe. Furthermore, every visit leaves him fully charged inspirationally and physically.

Today’s trip had been just as effective as ever. Him and Akira had their usual seats. It had mostly been Yusuke sounding off on anything that came to him while Akira hummed when appropriate. 

Something tender yet painful seizes Yusuke’s heart when he thinks of the look in Akira’s eyes. A man of few words, yet somehow Akira had a way of making feel like the only one. Placing him on a pedestal but not in a way that left him vulnerable. 

That tight tenderness sinks its claws deeper when Yusuke thinks of the lights in the planetarium dimming. Not too bright and not too dark, it was amazing how a thousand tiny points scattered across the ceiling could illuminate a room.

After the show Yusuke had another one of his reveries of curry, dragging them to Leblanc.

So here they are, Akira’s washing their plates while Yusuke stares down at his sketchbook. He’s got the beginnings of… something. He’s not sure, it’s difficult to focus sometimes after eating.

He looks over to the sink where Akira is doing his thing. He thought he’d been there for an awful long time just for washing their cups and plates but it turns out there’s a whole pile in there. Looks like The Boss dumped everything onto his charge. 

Watching Akira work is therapeutic. His motions are smooth, easy, and well-practiced. The plates do clatter against each but not loud enough to hurt. The rushing water from the tap also tones the noise down. There’s a misty dreamy look in Akira’s eyes, half-closed. That dreaminess destresses him from the instinctual level. Objectively letting down his guard this much probably isn’t good but relaxing with Akira just feels right.

White soap suds against Akira’s arms awakens something familiar in Yusuke’s memory, he squints his eyes trying to recover the thought. 

It isn’t until much later, when Yusuke is sprawled out on the attic floor, that he gets a firm grip on the picture. 

He glances out the window open to the night sky and it takes him.

“Akira!” He says, voice coming off frantic and a bit too sharp.

“Hm?” 

Akira slowly looks up from his homework and peers down at Yusuke and oops he was kind of loud. 

“Akira I must try something!” Yusuke leaps to his feet, tugs Akira to the bed and pushes him until he sits down. He then stomps over to the potted plant where he left his bag. As he digs around in the search for his paints, Akira pulls his legs up onto the mattress. Out the corner of his eye he sees Akira leaning on his legs, forming this kind of huge pulsing smoky mass. Just like the-

Ah, his paints. 

He snatches up the white tube and his smallest brush, thinner than a pencil. Planting himself snug next to Akira he holds the brush next to Akira’s arm and stares into his eyes.

Akira looks down at the brush then scoots himself around until his whole body faces Yusuke. Making Yusuke painfully aware of the awkward twisted way he himself is sitting and there’s too much happening. He wants to do this thing but also he should get himself comfortably situated but he has too much leg for any adjustment to be ideal and god damn his height. 

“Sit like me.” Akira says, breaking him out of his thoughts.

Yusuke stops to breathe. He looks down at the swirling shape of Akira’s ankles and crosses his legs in kind. How obvious. Distressing as it was the whole incident is ancient history soon enough. 

Popping the cap on the tube and squeezing up a bead of white paint, Yusuke dabs at it with the brush. Ultimately the medium is too different, he probably can’t recreate the scene from the planetarium. Then again that isn’t exactly what he wants to do.

Any new piece is daunting. Lately Yusuke finds himself embarking on these journeys without a destination in mind. The thought of wandering blind sounds awful, it makes it sound like the wretched block is only getting worse. In a way it also sets him free.

Freedom.

He’s holding freedom in one hand while freedom blinks at him through glazed eyes. Eyes that regain some focus after the first few taps of his brush on skin. 

Yusuke tries stippling out some of the constellations they saw earlier onto Akira’s wrist. At the time he was more focused on the general picture, on future visits he hopes to take in more details. It was a reasonable approach but one that left him missing crucial information. Curse his inability to focus. Damn his imperfect memory.

His hand stops.

How long he pauses, encumbered by his thoughts, he isn’t sure. Eventually he’s brought back to Earth by a soreness in cheek.

“Yuuusuke.” Akira prods his cheek hard with his free hand.

Yusuke looks up to Akira pointing out the window.

“Maybe try that?”

Yusuke looks out the window. It’s a nice thought on Akira’s part, and while the sky is darker from here than the atelier in Shibuya it’s still not quite far enough from the light pollution of the big city. He can’t see any stars.

“Maybe those?” Akira says with a laugh. This time he’s pointing to the rafters and Yusuke himself can’t help but smile at his present on display.

When he readies himself to resume his project he realises in a panic there’s paint trailing up near Akira’s elbow and over his fingers. The Aquarius he dotted out on Akira’s wrist is nowhere to be seen.

Upon further observation, the remains of Aquarius are indeed swirling around on Akira’s skin. 

“Oh… My bad.” Akira mumbles.

“No.” Yusuke breathes out. This is unforeseen, unforeseen but also…

“This is magnificent.”

The paint’s dry, he thinks. Yusuke watches the remains of Aquarius drifting under his grip. With them goes all the plans he had. 

Yusuke finds he doesn’t mind.


End file.
